


Breakfasts with Cas

by annodominique



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Cas, Bunker cas, Cas baby, Dean Cooks, Domestic destiel, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Smut, bunker destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:37:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2303504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annodominique/pseuds/annodominique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas started running every morning ever since he became human and moved in the bunker. Dean's still not sure why he wakes up at five AM to cook breakfast for everyone. Or why he looks forward to mornings all of a sudden. Was it because he's trying to live healthy? Was it because he likes seeing Cas all flushed and happy after his runs? Who knows these days? fluff and smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfasts with Cas

**Author's Note:**

> ***i enjoyed writing this. It begins as fluff, then whoa to the whooooah, whaaaaat. Slow build, and sexual tension, and tingly, giddy feels. Bottom Cas, Domestic Destiel, Bunker Cas. I swear, super cute Cas in big t-shirts. And adorable, breakfast-cooking Dean. Peace out.

It was like clockwork, Dean's waking up in the wee hours of the morning. Ever since Castiel became human and stayed in the bunker, he got into a habit of running at four AM everyday. Dean did not think it humanly possible to be up that early. But he figured Cas just turned human, so who knows what celestial mumbo jumbo's still mussing up his system. 

The first time Dean found out about Castiel's daily routine, he'd gone to the bathroom to pee, and found Cas's bedroom door open, bed linen so neatly fixed you could bounce a coin on it. Instead of going back to bed, Dean had stayed up in the kitchen, waiting worriedly like a restless mother hen. He remembered thinking that Cas might have ran off somewhere, or, or, went to be with somebody or something that can't be trusted. Dean had ran every possible scenario in his head not excluding Cas being dead in a ditch or bleeding helplessly beside an abandoned stretch of road, all the horrors that could possibly happen; when finally the bunker doors opened, and from the stairs, a sweaty ex-angel clad in an oversized T-shirt, thrift store jogging pants and dirty canvas shoes, strode rather energetically into the study, and into the kitchen. 

If Cas could be grounded, Dean would have grounded him until next schoolyear. But what Dean ended up doing was making breakfast for the both of them, sausage and eggs. Over breakfast, they argued about Cas going out without dean's knowledge and basically getting Dean worried sick. It was an argument straight out from an old married couple's. But then the argument quickly cooled down and the pair stayed there telling each other stories until the sun was up, and the house stirred, and Sam and Kevin were joining them in the breakfast table. And it was the best morning Dean had ever had. 

That very day was the same day Dean started waking up at five everyday to make breakfast for everyone, and in time for Cas to come home from his morning runs. It was an effortless shift in Dean's body clock. At first he told himself he was just getting old. Old people wake up earlier. It was a damn well better explanation than, waking up early just to see Cas all flushed and happy from running in his goddamn thrift store shirts, and to just be able to take care of him first thing in the morning. Because wow, was that so gay. And Dean--well, he's not gay. Never. Not in a million years. 

But days turned into months, and Dean gave up with his made-up explanation, because he did not feel old at all. On the contrary, he looked forward to mornings like a five-year-old on christmas morning. Months and he'd developed a technique where he'd drink from his coffee cup to keep from smiling everytime Cas strides in the kitchen, beaming at him with a gruff 'good morning Dean.' Months and Castiel's 'good morning, Dean,' turned monotonic, and more flat, and more gruff, but somehow held more emotion--like there was something more beneath the words 'good morning, Dean.'  
Their talks over coffee and bread, and eggs, and milk, and cereal, and pancakes, became raw. At first, they talked about mundane things: weather, and people, and jobs, and hunts, Sam and kevin, and funny anecdotes. But then later, it turned to hopes, and dreams, and wants, and views and words with meaning, and truths about most things. They would laugh, make themselves happy, they would make themselves sad, and swallow their tears. 

One day into their ruse, Dean found Castiel in the low light of the kitchen, cooking on the stovetop. He never cared for a picture, but he wanted that image with him forever, he'd thought. Castiel looking so small and barefoot in his kitchen. He had wanted to touch him so much that he felt so breathless. Dean had lingered too long and so close behind Cas trying to will himself to stop doing anything he would regret later. Then he was resting his chin on Cas's left shoulder. Cas was clearly surprised by the gesture but he did not question it and instead kept busy with the stove. The following days were full of excuses to touch each other.  
'You need a haircut, Cas.'  
'I think you missed cleaning a bit of shaving cream here, Dean.'  
'You have girl hands Cas, look at these (fake gruff laugh full of sexual tension)'  
'You have ketchup on your lip, Dean. No, not there. Here, I will wipe it off for you.'  
Until the excuses were just too lame to remain excuses.  
'Are these shirts getting bigger, or you're getting skinnier, Cas?' He'd wrap his arms around Cas's torso and rest his chin on his shoulder, 'It feels like hugging a bean pole.'  
And Cas would laugh, rub his face gently against Dean's. 

Cas's runs became shorter, until his runs seem to be becoming an excuse, too, for their early morning trysts in the kitchen. Cas took over cooking some days, and during those days Dean would watch him, clinging against him, chin always resting on his shoulder. Cas would cuddle their faces, hiding a small smile that Dean always catch.

Until one day, it had happened so suddenly, effortlessly, unmindfully, that Cas forgot that he was just supposed to rub their faces together, that he wasn't supposed to turn a bit, and give the other man a peck on his lips. 

They've stopped moving all of a sudden, Cas stopped stirring and just froze, taken aback by what he just did.

And then Dean was reaching for the stove switch, he wordlessly, silently, turned it off, like it was the only thing left to do. Castiel had stood still on his spot, until Dean snaked a hand to intertwine with his. Cas turned to him inquiringly, met his eyes that were suddenly a deep green. No laughter there, no sarcasm, no nonsense, just straight up business. Dean was dragging him away from the stove, from the kitchen, laundry room, rec room and into the bedroom hallways, past Cas's own room, to the end of the hallway where Dean's bedroom was. 

"Close the door, Cas." Dean had dropped their hands, and was immediately taking off his shirt. Cas calmly closed the door, not even knowing what to expect. Not Dean's topless body too close for comfort, and heat too real.  
"What do you have to say for yourself, Cas?"  
"I'm sorry I kissed you."  
Dean's smile was feeble, and nervous, and trying, trying so hard to stay fucking cool.  
"C-Cas..." Dean had never felt so unnerved, he was fucking going mad, desire never felt this frustrating to him, so unbridled he didn't know what was fucking happening to him.  
He saw the moment in Cas's eyes when he got it. Fucking angel.  
"D-Dean, do you...want me?"  
Dean snorted. How could this possibly be not funny? Why is nobody laughing? Fuck he was so fucking whipped. He wanted to explode any way possible. The question hung in the air as Dean turned away, and looked anywhere but Cas. 

Until Cas was suddenly standing behind him, next to him, kissing his back tenderly; and Dean released a breath, and thanked the whole universe, every star, every nebula. He could sob right then and there because just this, this piece right here was fucking heaven. Cas could do anything to him and he'd rag doll his way into wasted happiness. That's how fucked he was about Castiel. 

Castiel kissed between his shoulder blades, kissed the prominent bone at the back of his neck, and trailed little dry gentle kisses at the back of his head. Cas pressed his whole body against dean's back, always kissing. "I'm right here, I'm always here, Dean," he whispered-kissed to his ears, and Dean found relief in knowing that Cas's breathing was far from steady as well.  
"Man, i need you so bad."  
"I know"  
"Please, Cas.." was everything he could say, somehow all the sorry's and the thank yous and the i love yous were said in that.  
And Cas just understood. Suddenly they were face to face, and too close. They touched each other's faces, glorifying and beating like heated energies that were dancing around each other, ready to collide. 

"I love you," As soon as the words were out, they were the truest thing he's ever said to Cas. The only true thing that really mattered among all the true things he's told him. "I love you, Cas, I'm sorry."  
"You never say sorry for that."  
Cas kissed him once on the lips, and kissed him again, and again, pushed him gently through pecks until they reached the bed and Cas straddled him, laid him gently through tiny closed mouthed kisses that pulled the desire up the surface to finally, finally break free. Then Dean was holding Cas's face in his hands as he pried the angel's mouth with his tongue. He didn't think it would get better, but it did when Cas met his tongue with his and they were kissing and panting against each other's mouth. He thought he could come right then, feeling Castiel's erection rubbing against his. He was thumbing Castiel's pants down, Cas came up for air and took off his shirt, pulled his pants and briefs away, and fucking straddled Dean, palming his own cock. Dean could not look away for the life of him.  
"That is so hot, you're leaking cum, Cas," Dean breathed out.  
"Please put your mouth on it, Dean."  
Dean didn't need to be told twice, he was suddenly flipping Cas on his back, slapped Cas's hand away from his own dick and wasted no time at all.  
"Fuck you smell so good, Cas." He nosed Cas's balls and the base of his shaft, licked a line up to the head which caused Cas to whimper.  
"Look at me, angel." Cas was forced to look down as Dean swirled his tongue around Cas's cock head, proceeding to put the whole length inside his mouth, wetting it completely, then pulling it out completely, teasing it against his lips, then in again, and then out, until he's fervently sucking.  
"Deannn.. dean, please, dean"  
The hunter kept on his task, all the while looking up at his angel, two fingers teasing Cas's butthole, scissoring until he's loose enough.  
"I want to see yours Dean."  
"Mine? My what, Cas? My soul?" Dean snickered, eyes dark as he continued sucking Cas's balls and palming his cock.  
"Fuck you"  
"The whole point."  
"Take it out. Now."  
"Take what out?"  
"Please, Dean, i need you to fuck me now."  
And that did it. "Shit, angel, yes." Dean was on his knees, and his pants and boxers were gone in an instant. His cock was so thick and hard against his abdomen. He began to pump it while looking at Cas, a drop of cum dripped from his dick to the patch of Cas's pubic hair and Cas's penis twitched, somehow becoming even harder. Dean kept on fisting his own cock and more precum was dripping from it.  
"See this, baby? This is all for you, all for you Cas. Baby..ohh fuck, fuck yeah."  
Cas started to pump his own cock too.  
"Put it inside me, Dean. Please fuck me now."  
Dean gently probed Cas's asshole with his cock, all slick with his precum.  
"It's so big." Cas helped Dean put his cock in until it's inside up to the hilt.  
"Cas!" Dean sobbed "baby, it's so good. You feel so good!"  
Cas started moving. "Please fuck me." Cas wrapped his legs around Dean's hips.  
Dean moved up and down, until his rhythm escalated, until he's pistoning in and out feverishly, both grunting and groaning, shouting each other's names and plastering open mouthed kisses everywhere their lips could reach. Dean's abdomen was rubbing against Cas's cock as he moved in and out and it was the sweetest friction that turned him to the ends of desire a man could ever feel in his whole lifetime.  
"Dean, I'm coming!" Cas's was so out of breath it came out as a mere whisper.  
"Yes, baby, come for me. It's mine, that's all mine. You're mine." Dean was keeping his rhythm and it was frantic.  
Cas came in ropes of white, hot and searing against dean's torso. Dean licked some that spilled on Cas's cheek and lips.  
"Come inside me, Dean."  
And he was. Dean was shouting his name, everything forgotten. It was the longest, most satisfying climax of his life; he saw galaxies, and millions of universes beyond his. He saw all the mornings of his life in the future spent with Cas. Like this. Everyday. And it was all he needed, he decided.

They collapsed against each other, sated and wasted at the same time, hearts beating wildly; slowly withering from their high, floating down like feathers in the wind.  
"Fuck, that was..." Dean said against Cas's ear. "..just what was missing. All this time, man."  
Cas tenderly stroked Dean's hair. Outside, the sun was rising.  
"A-are we.." As they came down from their high, uncertainty and doubt crept back into Castiel's voice. Dean suddenly came up to look at Cas face to face.  
"Are we what?"  
"...Together now?"  
"What do ya think, Cas?" He looked at him like he's so done.  
"Yyes?"  
"Fuck if I'm letting you out of sight ever again, angel." The words came out so quickly and so unfiltered that Dean had to bury his head in Cas's neck to hide his flush.  
"I am so fucking in love with you." Dean's voice was muffled against Cas's neck. And Cas couldn't help but grin like an idiot.  
They didn't cook breakfast that morning.


End file.
